


Turning Page

by Crying_ram



Series: Your Love is my Turning Page [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Eliza is only mentioned, Fluff, Happy Ending, Herc is there for like 1 second, How Do I Tag, John is a Mess, Lams isnt end game, M/M, Probably moves too quickly but oh well, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Thats the soulmate part, Thaurens is the main pairing, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:36:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crying_ram/pseuds/Crying_ram
Summary: The truth was, there was nothing special about John Laurens. He was a simple boy who had given up on dreams long ago. He had nothing to share, nothing worthy to give, so what was really the point in trying to talk to whoever this other person was right now?(Even though his soulmate had clearly been trying to communicate with him for a while now. John was always puzzled when he woke up to nothing on his arms but the word 'hello')-AU where anything you write on yourself appears on your soulmate's skin





	Turning Page

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this when i should've been sleeping  
> I love this ship now i apologize for nothing  
> Im sorry for my trash writing i tried i swear  
> Title is from Turning page by sleeping at last. I listened to it on repeat while writing this and i just sjfbsndb love it

John was 6 when he first noticed the erratic scribbles decorating his legs.  
He had looked down at them curiously, trying to pick out any discernible words, but found the only thing he could understand was the word 'oops' over and over again. He traced a fingertip over the letters, trying to see if that would give any help at all, but it was futile.  
To be fair, he wasn't that great at reading yet, but he was almost certain that whoever his soulmate was, they certainly weren't that great at writing.

His mom explained the concept to him when he was 10, how the writings on his skin came from someone far away who would love him one day. John didn't quite understand, but he noticed the writing getting neater, noticed the way the letters got smaller, stood straight and tall in perfect rows.  
John supposed he didn't mind the writing so much when it was just so... Pretty.

When his mother died, he traced constellations between his freckles with red ink as his mother had. He always got multiple question marks on his skin in response. He never gave an explanation. His soulmate never asked. Besides, they never lasted long. His father would always make sure he scrubbed his body clean of the ink. 'Better to not linger in the past.'

As the years passed, he tried not to write anything on his skin. The less information he gave about himself, the better. He didn't quite feel like disappointing someone he'd never even met before by revealing how boring or bland he was. The truth was, there was nothing special about John Laurens. He was a simple boy who had given up on dreams long ago. He had nothing to share, nothing worthy to give, so what was really the point in trying to talk to whoever this other person was right now?(Even though his soulmate had clearly been trying to communicate with him for a while now. John was always puzzled when he woke up to nothing on his arms but the word 'hello')

Maybe art saved him.  
As the days and nights seemed to drag on, as seasons passed without event, and as his father showed more disdain towards John, John began to pour his heart into drawing. He was in college, with big expectations stood in front of him, and unsure of where to go. Sleepless nights were spent at his desk, paper laid out in front of him, sketching out what he imagined his soulmate to look like until his buzzing brain finally grew tired enough to grant him much needed rest. He never dared to draw his soulmate as a man, though. Partially because he didn't want to accept the possibility of his soulmate being a man, partially because of his dad. His father would look at the drawings he'd done, of pretty girls with long hair and soft lips, and he'd smile at John with something like pride, something that made John's heart clench.

He almost never smiled at John that way.

So, yes, maybe art saved him. It made the hole in his heart more easy to deal with, gave him something to focus his anxious brain on. John began to spend more time drawing on his skin when he really should have been paying attention to the lecture so many other students were taking notes on. He smudged out the doodles right after they were finished, though, hoped his soulmate wouldn't see anything he was drawing. John had still never written a single word to his soulmate, never a good morning or a goodnight or any indication that he was even aware of the other person's existence.

John didn't pretend like the words on his arm didn't exist, though.  
It was nothing special. The other person didn't seem to try talking directly to him anymore, it was just quickly scribbled down reminders and passages from books. Sometimes, it was poetry, paragraphs about plants, birds, and architecture covering his entire forearm. John read each paragraph carefully, marveling in the knowledge his soulmate seemed to possess. Who was this person, and how was it possible that they could make John's heart stutter in his chest with something as simple as words?

It seemed they were both in college, and it was unclear to John what his soulmate was studying, but he suddenly found himself with the terrifying want to ask. He wanted to get to know this strange person, with their neat writing and their interest in plants and birds. The idea of it terrified him, and he quickly shoved it down; another day, another time. Always another time.

When John first met Alexander Hamilton, he thought maybe he could be the one. Once he had accepted the idea of being attracted to a man, anyways. He was a man with fire in his eyes, words always on the tip of his tongue. It was possible John grew to love him a little, his bright smile and messy hair. It was possible Alex loved him a little in return. Far too many nights had been spent with the two of them laying in the same bed, talking about classes and their lives and anything in particular with their hands clasped tightly between them. The thought of letting go never crossed either of their mind's.

John wasn't Alexander's soulmate, he later found out, but at the time, it hadn't felt that way. They were both young, both longing to take on the world, both looking at each other with nothing but adoration. They were wholest when they were together, laughing and brighter than the sun; infinite.

For a while, things were perfect. They shared an apartment, each had their own rooms, but always shared John's bed anyways. They had sex, slept together, ate together, went on dates; nothing was out of the ordinary, and they both ignored the writing that would appear on the other's skin while they lay together. People always looked at them strangely when they mentioned how they weren't soulmates, but they both pretended like it didn't matter. John never said just how much it mattered to him.

When Alex meant Eliza, it was clear to see that she was his soulmate. There John was, hand in Alex's, and Alex could only look at her with awe and longing. He had sworn it didn't mean anything, that he loved John with all of his heart, and he would only ever love John.

But Alex was meant for Eliza, a girl with a laugh like honey and eyes like home, and John knew he didn't stand a chance. Alex argued that couples who weren't soulmates could work, that his parents had done it, but they both knew it was a weak argument. The relationship between Alex's parents hadn't lasted, and Alex was just as smitten for Eliza as he was for John.  
They agreed to stay best friends, that they'd always love each other a little more than friends, but John learned to hate the universe just a little.  
How dare it make him fall for someone as beautiful as Alex, only to take him away.

He focused on getting through college. Only two more years, and he'd be free. He still had the writing on his arms, but now looking at it made him feel both sad and fond, somehow. He'd already felt what it was like to be in love, he was unsure if he could ever feel it again, but...  
This stranger, with their hastily written reminders to themselves and slightly awkward ramblings made him want to think that he could.

John decided not to smudge away the drawings on his skin anymore. He drew flowers, blooms that took up his entire forearm in varying colors and sizes. If his soulmate wrote about a particular plant, a bird, a kind of wine, John would look up an image and bring it to life on his flesh. It became like a game to them; the stranger would write a whole essay about nothing in particular on his arm, and John would do his best to create a picture to go with it. 

His friends quickly took notice, teased him about how the writing on his arm was far too good to be his own.

"Seems John's finally taken up communicating with his other half!" Hercules laughed heartily, and John blushed bright pink, stuttered out a weak protest. (He tried to ignore the way Alex's face fell at the statement. Time would heal those wounds. He tried to ignore the ache in his own chest at the sight of Alex's frown.)

Soon, his soulmate no longer wrote about anything other than John's artwork. They wrote in great detail, raved about how amazing John was as an artist, how they couldn't wait to meet the person behind the beautiful images that they had the privilege of having on their arms. John took pictures of each passage, saving them into a folder on his camera titled 'never forget' with a stupid grin on his face. He felt like shining, like he was a star brought into existence by the eloquence of a person he didn't even completely know yet.

Sometimes the sentences weren't nearly as flowing. Sometimes they sounded nervous, shy, and these were the ones John likes best. The ones that were short and cute with various question marks thrown about and notes of 'forgive me, I don't know what to say. you're wonderful??'  
These were the ones John blushed and squealed over, the ones that felt like love.

It was next to one of these lines that John doodled a little heart, a little shaky and lopsided from nerves. He was unsure of what he was hoping to receive in response, but it felt honest. His entire truth was summed up in a poorly drawn heart, resting right next to writing about how he was too good to be true.  
It was early in the morning, far too early to be awake, but this was something that had been plaguing John's mind for weeks now; really, though, he wasn't expecting an immediate response.

It was what he got anyways. He watched, equal parts curious, nervous, and giddy, as writing quickly appeared on his skin. It was far messier than he had ever seen it, far shakier. It was perfect.

'Is this for real?' It said  
'Are you for real?' It said

John snorted, biting his lip to contain the nervous giggles threatening to escape. He took a deep breath, pen clutched tightly in his hand, and shakily touched it to his palm.

'Always' he wrote, in letters that looped too much, with a 'y' who's tail was too long. It was far from neat, running together in one big jumble, and usually John took pride in it, but now it seemed... Not enough.

'your writing is beautiful' his soulmate wrote.  
John got out of bed, danced around his room for a moment. This was something worth dancing over, something worth celebrating.

'Can I see you?' John asked, beaming despite the fact that it was somewhere around 3 AM and he was alone in his dark room.

'You want to?'

'Always'

John discovered that his soulmate went to the same college as he did.  
It seemed like a strange coincidence, a miracle that he was unsure who to thank for. What if he already knew his soulmate? What if he already had a class with them? What did they look like?  
They set up a time and place a month in advance and John couldn't help but write excited words all over himself for his soulmate to see. His teachers gave him knowing looks when he wasn't paying attention in class, too busy holding a pen to his flesh to pay attention to his work (luckily he always had at least one friend to copy notes from in each class)

The days came and went slowly, some spent doing nothing but sitting in his dorm and giggling over something his soulmate had written. Though he didn't know their name, there was an instant connection, a longing to close the distance between them. He carried a pen with him at all times, much to the annoyance of his friends.

"Why don't you just give him your number so you guys can text? That way, your conversations aren't on display,"Alex had muttered one afternoon, after reading one of the sappiest poems John's soulmate had ever written on his wrist. John easily picked up on the jealousy in his tone, but didn't mention it; to do so would hurt them both. After all, they still loved each other. Maybe they always would.

So John didn't mention Alex's jealousy, but he did let him curl up in his arms, did run a hand through Alex's hair.

"I like it better this way,"John replied nonchalantly, pinching Alex's side when he groaned in response.  
"Don't be like that. I'm... I'm happy. I want people to be able to look at me and see the reason why I'm happy."

Alex cracked a smile at the explanation, but it was small and weak. He buried his face in John's neck, sniffling softly.

"Why can't you be happy with me?" He asked, voice watery enough to break John's heart.

"We're... Not meant to be together. You know that."

"But I love you!"Alex exclaimed, wrapping his arms around John tightly and letting out a small hiccup. John inhaled shakily, rubbed soothing circles on Alex's back.

"I love you too,"he whispered, the admission causing tears to flood his eyes.

"Then why don't we be together? Say 'fuck it' to the entire soulmate thing and just... Be?"

John sighed at the question, turning his head to press a kiss to Alex's temple. This conversation was getting dangerous, but then again, they couldn't exactly pretend their relationship had ever been exclusively platonic before, and they couldn't pretend now. This was important to discuss; yes, they loved each other, but they loved other people, too.

"Can you imagine a future with Eliza?"John asked gently, biting his lip. This conversation would definitely hurt him, but...

"Of course,"Alex said immediately, sounding more joyful at just the mention of his soulmate.  
"I can imagine us having some kids, and a dog, and we live in a nice, small house and in the summer we plant things and in winter we take the kids ice skating. We're-" he froze, clearing his throat. He hadn't realized he had been ranting. How... cute.  
"We're... Happy,"Alex finished, and John couldn't help but smile, pulling back from their embrace to look at Alex's face.

"When you imagine your wedding,"John began, smile faltering but continuing on,"where am I standing?"

Alex's eyes widened in astonishment, and he looked at John, really looked at him.  
"I get it now,"Alex murmured, tears still steadily falling from his eyes. John brought up a hand to cup his cheek, gently brushing them away.

"I'm glad you do,"he muttered, trying to bite back his own tears.  
He wouldn't admit it, but if Alex had truly loved him completely, John would have rejected his own soulmate. His soulmate was lovely, but Alex was his best friend, had stood beside him for so long that John had forgotten how life was like without him.

"Best friends?"Alex asked, small but hopeful. He didnt have to say the words that still hung around them; it was obvious that they'd still love eachother in a different way, but their friendship was enough. John grinned at that, lopsided, but genuine and wide.

"Forever."

The day after didn't feel like pain. They slept in the same bed, Alex wrapped around John's body, and his heart ached only a tiny bit. He brought his arms up to his face, all pain in his chest being replaced by giddiness at the new words on his arms. He picked his pen up from the bedside table, being careful not to wake Alex, and began to write back. So what if he and Alex couldn't be together? The tear in his heart would scab over, time would make him heal. He had someone waiting for him, all he had to do was be patient and trusting. All he had to do was let himself fall.

The day of their meeting came in a flash. John flitted around the dorm room getting ready, much to Alex's amusement and annoyance.

"John, you look fine, you're gonna be late if you don't leave soon,"he chided, clearly exasperated by John's behavior. John looked down at the time on his phone, letting out a small scream in surprise. He tripped over himself as he ran to put his shoes on, checking himself one last time in the mirror before running to leave. Alex gave him a high five and a thumbs up as he passed, and it was amazing how much the small gesture was able to calm the horde of butterflies in his stomach.

They agreed on a park somewhere on campus, one with trees perfect for sitting under and doing nothing but talking. John couldn't help the bounce in his step as he walked, watching with a racing heart as more words appeared.

'where are you?'  
'are you standing me up?'  
'It's okay if you are I'd just like to know cause I'm sort of freaking out right now???'  
  
John rolled his eyes, pulling out a pen and trying his best to write while practically running through a park.

'I'm here. Wearing a yellow sweater. Where are you?' He scribbled down, writing looking akin to that of a 7 year old's. His head whipped around all over the park, though it was impossible to tell who could be his soulmate. The park was surprisingly crowded, and he let out a frustrated whine. He looked down at his arm again, hoping for some sort of clue.

'Oh thank god I lied I wasn't OK with you standing me up I was going to cry'  
'I'm by a duck pond to the left of the entrance'

John quickly changed direction, backtracking to the entrance and turning left. He grew more anxious the longer he walked, stopping just in front of a pond housing a mother duck and his ducklings. He smiled softly, his nerves forgotten for the moment as he kneeled at the pond's edge. One of the ducklings waddled towards him, and he gently stroked its fluffy back, chuckling when it quacked at him at response.

"Hey,"a voice said above him, soft and deep, and John's head shot up, whipping around to the source. A tall man stood before him, offering a small smile. He held out his wrist, showing the most recent drawing John had done; blue violets and yellow acacia.

John scrambled to his feet, pulse racing, staring with wide eyes at the man in front of him; his skin was rich in color, eyes deep enough for John to drown in, face framed by a beautiful halo of dark curls. 

"Hi,"John breathed, watching the man's smile turn into something sweeter, something more shy. His heart pounded against his ribcage, and he took a moment to just take in the sight of this man, this strange, beautiful man. Silence fell over them, and John felt far too hesitant to break it. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he embarrassed himself and his soulmate decided to leave him because he was hopeless-?

"Y-You... Freckles,"the man stuttered, cheeks flushing a pretty shade of red. John raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly at the statement.

"Actually, my name's John. John Laurens,"he stated smugly, watching the other flush darker. That blush was quickly becoming John's favorite thing to look at.

 "Ah, right, names and introductions... I'm Thomas Jefferson,"Thomas stated, tripping over his words slightly. His eyes didn't stay on John's face for long, instead darting to everything but him. 

"Nice to meet you, Thomas,"John all but purred, trying to exude confidence despite the fact that he felt like a pile of dirt next to this man. How was he so pretty? This really wasn't fair... His eyes, his body, that pretty little mouth-

His eyes darted up to meet Thomas' again before he could get too carried away, only to find that he had also been openly checking him out. John laughed quietly at the realization, but it sounded more anxious than anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, John squirming as heat rose to his cheeks.

"You're prettier than I thought you'd be,"He blurted out suddenly, eyes widening in surprise at his own traitorous tongue. Thomas' mouth fell open into a little 'o,' something John would maybe laugh about if he didn't look so insulted.

"And you're very handsome?"The other man chuckled, and John couldn't help but lean towards him. Like a moth to flame, perhaps. All he knew was that Jefferson was a sight to behold, just as pretty as he was intelligent. The words he had said finally registered in John's brain, and he blinked at Thomas in shock. This man... Thought he was handsome? Did he have no standards? Did he hate himself?

John could think of no way to respond, simply opting to stare at Thomas as if he'd sprouted wings. This seemed to concern his soulmate, made Thomas lean in and examine John's face closely. John blinked back to reality the slightest bit at their proximity, but didn't dare speak or move.

Thomas closed the distance, placing a tender kiss on John's cheek that left him reeling. He just kissed his cheek. Thomas Jefferson, a man beautiful enough to be on a magazine, kissed John Laurens, a human tragedy, on the cheek. John positively beamed, unable to bite back the squeal that found its way out of his throat. He absolutely would have screamed if no one else were in this park.

Thomas took a step closer then, and John went silent, watching him intently. The other man fidgeted with his hands nervously, suddenly finding the ground very interesting.

"You okay?"John asked, brows furrowed in concern. Had he done something wrong? Thomas shook his head, biting at his lip, and John's chest quickly filled with panic.

"What's wrong? What'd I do-"

"Would you go out with me sometime?"Thomas interrupted, voice cracking. He seemed to curl in on himself more, bracing himself for whatever John's reaction would be. John blinked in confusion, a smile slowly blooming on his face. He laughed loudly, causing Thomas' eyes to flit up to his nervously.

"It was- It was just a suggestion, you don't have to,"he said quickly, to which John rolled his eyes and threw his arms around him.

"Of course I'll go out with you,"John whispered, laying dozens of light kisses all over his face. Thomas' eyes widened, cheeks flushing as he let out a small noise of surprise. John stopped after a while, grin so wide that it almost hurt, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Can I kiss you? Please?"John asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The eagerness in his tone was clear, flowing through his veins as if it were part of his blood. Looking at Thomas, looking at his soulmate, he felt more complete than he ever had.

Instead of answering, Thomas rushed forward to kiss him. Unfortunately, he greatly miscalculated his movements. It resulted in him not only stepping on John's foot, but also hitting their heads together. They both let out pained grunts, though John's was quickly followed by bright laughter.

"Shit, I'm sorry, that could've gone so much better,"Thomas groaned, rubbing at his forehead. He apologized in earnest, repeatedly, until John sighed and tugged him forward by his shirt. The action stopped Jefferson's apologizing right in its tracks, much to John's delight.

"Chill, you're adorable,"he mumbled, though he was unsure if Thomas was even listening, considering his eyes were zeroed in on John's lips. John leaned forward, biting back a smile when Thomas inhaled sharply.

The press of their lips was everything John had hoped it would be; gentle, sweet, as if the only thing that mattered in this moment was the endless love they held for eachother. Thomas melted into it, melted into him, and it felt so right that John could've cried.

This man was everything, everything. John went his entire life, never reaching out. His mind would always wander to the person who was meant for him; would they truly accept him? Would they love him regardless of how he perceived himself? For years he had been hiding from Thomas, had been hiding from the possibility that there'd be nothing to hold onto if he did reach out. For years, he had been wrong. If John had only known how lovely Thomas was, how he smiled when he blushed, the way his heart had room for everything on Earth... Maybe John would've gone searching sooner. Maybe they had both been waiting to be found.

John pushed Thomas away after a while, lungs burning from lack of oxygen. He wanted to keep him close, hold on and never let go, but it'd only make the task of breathing more difficult. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

He glanced at Thomas once he was able to catch his breath, surprised to see tears shining in his eyes. Thomas quickly averted his eyes, sniffling softly, pouting in a way that made John's heart break. He pulled Thomas back into his arms, rubbing circles into his back.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, sometimes I really don't think, I didn't mean to upset you,"he muttered. Thomas wrapped his arms around John in response, letting out a broken sob that only added to John's distress.

"What did I do to deserve you?"Jefferson asked, and John froze, breathing out a laugh.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that question?"he teased, smile small and mostly worried.  
"Darling, are you okay?"

Thomas hummed in confusion, his hold on John tightening.  
"Why are you asking? I'm perfectly fine... Are you?"

John sighed in relief, smiling fondly at the man in his arms. He was just so... So good. He was warm and kind, as if he had been created with nothing but sugar and sunlight.

"I was asking because you're crying,"he deadpanned, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a giggle.  
"But I'm... I'm wonderful. My soulmate is an angel, I love him with all of my being. I don't know how i went this long without him."

Thomas let out a high pitched squeal, clinging to John like some sort of cuddly octopus. John closes his eyes, hugs back tightly, tries to let this moment sink into his brain forever.

He takes in every detail; the ducks quacking just feet away, children yelling playfully, Thomas pressed against him as if he's been waiting his entire life to do this. It's strange, really, how happy John is. His entire life lays before him, with twists and turns and forks in the road, but John feels unafraid. If you had asked him just a year ago what he pictured his future to be like, he would've drawn a blank. To the John of a year ago, there was no future. There was only taking it a single day at a time, cutting up that day into hours and minutes to make it more bearable. There was uncertainty, there was the great need to hide.

This feels like a new chapter completely. In the book of John Lauren's life, this is the turning page. His life lays before him, and he is unsure of what will happen, but now he can picture Thomas with him through every step of the way. Thomas is not the sun. Thomas is gravity. Thomas keeps him grounded. Thomas is the moon and the stars and what holds everything together perfectly, beckoning John towards him.

John can't wait to spend the rest of his life with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes there will definitely be a smut sequel to this ;)  
> Dont hate me please  
> Leave comments + kudos because i died over this fanfic for like 3 days  
> ✌✌✌


End file.
